


The Cleric

by CalicoPudding



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study, Crying, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mild Blood, Self-Esteem Issues, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-04-26 16:11:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14405757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalicoPudding/pseuds/CalicoPudding
Summary: It's her job, she's the only cleric they have. If she can't do that much, what use does she have?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm running on one juicebox and a handful of pretzels, I have finals next week, and I needed to stress write something.

She stabilizes Nott without much difficulty, it's just a stab wound, one to the stomach but it's an easy fix.

“There we go, Nott, good as new.” She helps Nott to her feet, giving her a little nudge toward Caleb.

“Thank you, Jester,” Nott says, grabbing one of her hands and squeezing before running off.

Jester watches her go, sees her fuss over Caleb, and smiles. She opens the hand Nott had taken, unsurprised at the blood staining her skin, but smiles as she sees a small button sitting at the center of her palm. It was probably really nice before Nott put it in her hand, now it’s covered in blood and gory bits. She does her best to clean it off but only succeeds in smudging the blood around. Her hands are practically painted with the stuff, and there are splatters of red all up and down her arms, staining her dress as well.

Some of her hair falls in her face and she tries to blow it out of the way. Her hair is one of the few parts of her not covered in red, and she’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible.

A hand comes into her field of vision, tucking the piece of hair behind her ear.

“Oh, hey, Beau, thanks. Do you need healing too?”

“Nah, well, actually, I wouldn’t mind some, I took a pretty big hit back there.” She moves aside her cloak to reveal a massive expanse of bruised skin spanning from her waistband and up to her ribs. “Oh, shit, I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“It’s a wonder you’re moving,” Jester says, already prepping a spell. “You’re really amazing, Beau, does it hurt?”

Beau ends up laying down in the grass when Jester is done, one arm thrown over her face while the other is sprawled out. The spell didn’t do much, just enough to fix the internal damage, the skin is still pretty heavily bruised.

It’s all Jester can do at the moment though. Fjord has talked to her about conserving her spells so she’s been trying to save one or two just in case something happens. She’s the cleric after all, she’s got to have something set aside in case someone eats the dirt in the middle of a fight.

She’ll do more for Beau when they’re back at the inn and clearly out of danger.

When everyone’s standing, they start making their way back. The blood on Jester’s hands has dried by this point, and her focus is on picking it off her skin. It’s under her nails too, which is just a hassle. There’s probably a cantrip or something she can use to get the blood out of her clothes. She really likes this dress, it would be a shame to trash it. It’s not a big deal when it’s dirt, or a tear, she can fix those.

But blood is harder to get out.

“Jester, here.”

Molly’s coming up behind her, a canteen in one hand and a rag in the other.

“Oh, thank you, Molly, it’s fine though, I can-”

“We’re close, being thirsty isn’t gonna’ kill me.”

Jester doesn’t get any more chance to protest because Molly’s already sprinkling water on the rag. The two of them stop walking and Molly helps her clean the blood from her hands. The rag is absolutely ruined but Molly still has a few sips left in his canteen.

“Thank you, Molly, it feels much better now.”

Molly grins as he wrings out the rag, pink water dripping into the dirt. They start walking, a little faster than usual to catch up with the others, and Jester watches Molly stow the damp rag in his pack. She doesn’t say anything about it though.

“Not a problem. Shame about your dress though, if you want, I can teach you a trick for getting rid of blood stains when we get back.”

It takes a moment to click but Jester gets it after a moment. Of course Molly would know how to get rid of bloodstains, he’d have to deal with lots of them.

“That would be very nice. I have to finish healing Beau and Caleb when we get back, then I’ll meet you…”

“In my room, Fjord mentioned he was going to stay downstairs and people watch.”

When they arrive at the inn, Nott opts to sit with Fjord while Caleb goes right upstairs to sleep. Jester catches him in the doorway, tapping his shoulder and giving him a smile. She receives a tired thank you in return, and she responds in kind. She’s picked up a little Zemnian just by listening to him, nowhere near enough to be fluent, but it makes Caleb smile.

Beau’s in their room, sprawled out on her back. She looks up when Jester enters and waves her hello. Her cloak is off, allowing Jester to see the still bruised skin of Beau’s torso.

Jester goes to her own side of the room and assesses her own damage. Her sleeves are absolutely stained, as is the skirt of her dress. There still some blood on her boots and her leathers but she knows enough to handle that on her own. Her cape is untouched, which is nice, and she takes it off, laying on her bed. She removes her clothing piece by piece until she’s in her shift, which is also unstained, and folds her dress over her arm.

“Is your side still hurting?” Jester asks, sitting on the edge of Beau’s bed.

“Yeah, I can sleep it off though, if-”

“No, no, I got it. That’s my job after all.”

Beau gives a quiet, kind of huffy, laugh for about a split second before wincing. Jester, with the last bit of magic she has for the day, takes care of Beau’s injury with a smile on her face.

“Thanks, Jester. You goin’ to bed?”

“Not yet, I’m going to go hang with Molly for a little. He’s going to show me how to get rid of blood stains.” She holds up her dress and Beau just nods.

“Okay, uh, have fun, I guess.”

Molly’s waiting in his room, sitting on the floor with his coat in his lap, surrounded by a small water basin, a bottle of something awful smelling, a small cloth pouch, and some rags.

“Ah, have a seat, have a seat. I already got everything from the kitchen.”

“The kitchen?”

Jester sits down across from him, arranging her dress on the floor in front of her. She’d rather keep it in her lap but some of the stains are still wet and she doesn’t want to ruin her shift.

“Vinegar and salt, my dear, and ice to make the water cold. Learned this pretty early on, Gustav showed me.”

He walks her through the steps and they make simple conversation as they work out the blood stains.

She’s grateful that Molly’s teaching her this, but maybe if she was a better cleric, her friends wouldn’t get hurt enough to bleed so much. Then, she wouldn’t even _need_ to do this. There has to be some kind of spell, “invulnerability”, “untouchable”, “keep my dumb friends safe so they don’t die”, something like that.

“Something on your mind?”

Molly’s voice breaks through her thoughts and she realizes she’s dabbing a little too violently at a spot of blood.

“No, just tired, I’m fine, Molly.”

* * *

 

_Shit. Fuck. Gods fucking damn it._

Caleb’s on the ground, Nott standing in front of him but wholly occupied with the ogre in front of her. Molly’s with her, but Jester can see him stumbling. Yasha’s on her own with the biggest ogre of the two, about to finish it off. But Beau’s down, and Fjord is too.

Who does she heal first?

Beau can usually last a while, she’s damn hard to hit. Fjord doesn’t have to worry about getting close range to fight, so he can stay back a little and stay safe. Caleb might drop as soon as she heals him but his spells are powerful.

What is she supposed to do?

Nott can keep Caleb safe, right? Plus she has Molly helping her. Caleb should be fine for a little while longer. Yasha’s close to Fjord, and Beau’s been down the longest.

Jester darts between the two ogres, they’re too preoccupied to try and attack her, and her leg is screaming at her as she nearly eats the dirt before she even makes it to Beau. She pours out what healing she can spare and nearly chokes when the other woman’s eyes don’t open immediately.

Jester turns around to see Nott pouring a potion into Caleb’s mouth as Molly delivers a killing blow to their ogre. She sees Yasha’s ogre already on the ground, and Yasha herself pressing her hand to Fjord’s chest. A moment later, Yasha is helping him stand up.

Beau’s hand falls onto Jester’s shoulder, leaning heavily against her. Jester nearly stumbles, her leg trembling. It’s hard enough managing her own weight but she loops an arm around Beau’s waist anyway.

“Go team,” Beau says with a weak cheer. Without thinking, Jester heals her more, taking care of the gash on her hip, and her mangled hand.

Molly sheathes his swords. Nott helps Caleb to his feet. Fjord thanks Yasha. Beau squeezes Jester’s shoulder.

_Gods fucking damn it._

They make their way out of the cave, Jester trying to heal everyone as much as possible while still making sure she has a reserve. They all thank her, Nott even gives her another button when Jester notices the injuries on her arm.

Half way through, Molly slings one of his arms around her shoulders.

“No bloodstains this time,” he says. “I’d consider that a win.”

Jester smiles, and waits to drop it until Molly moves to walk with Yasha.

She really messed this one up. She’s the reason Fjord dropped. They’d both taken a pretty bad hit at the start, and she decided to attack the ogre instead of heal Fjord. Then, she was so preoccupied with making sure she was within spell distance of Caleb, that she was too far away from Beau. When Yasha engaged one of the ogres, Jester healed Fjord a little, as much as she dared. She’d gotten her legs swept out from under her, and she chose to retaliate. Then Caleb hit the ground.

She wrings her tail in frustration, wincing as she twists a little too hard.They told her to prioritize herself, but what good is she if everyone goes unconscious? They could die, there are six other people she has to keep track of.

She nearly trips as Frumpkin bumps himself into her banged up leg, meowing at her. She looks around for Caleb, finding him toward the front of the group for once, he’s talking to Fjord.

“Hello, kitty.” She tries taking a step but Frumpkin moves right in front of her. “Well, if you insist.”

She scoops him up, pressing kisses all over his head while picking out clumps of dirt from his fur. It gives her something to focus on.

The walk back is painful, and she’s pretty sure that there’s a sizeable amount of blood sloshing around in her boot.

They’re in town now, she should be fine. She spares one hand from Frumpkin to touch her leg, healing as she’s mid step so the bone sets before she puts her foot down.

That’s better.

* * *

 

Jester sniffles a little, keeping her journal away from her face lest she smudge the drawings with her tears.

“And anyway,” she continues, “I don’t know if I’m even any _good_ at being the cleric. I like fighting, that’s way more fun, but we already have fighters. Like, Beau is always super cool, she wall jumped out of a hole that one time. Then, uh, Caleb is always doing cool magic stuff, and Fjord and Molly have swords. Even Nott has a weapon, and Yasha can definitely take care of the fighting stuff, I know she can. But I’m _the cleric_ , I have to save my spells, and keep them all alive. And I don’t _mind_ that but, you know, Yasha can heal, and both Fjord and Caleb know magic so maybe they could learn healing stuff too. And they can always buy potions. I _have_ to be a good cleric, because what if they decide they can do all that stuff without me? They could leave-”

She chokes a little, wringing her tail in her hands to avoid picking at her nails. There’s a warm breeze that swirls through the room, even though the window is closed, turning a new page in her sketchbook. Jester dries her eyes and fixes one of her hands in a grip on the Traveler’s symbol.

“Okay,” she whispers. She pulls her notebook closer and starts drawing on the blank page.

Then she hears the door creak.

She slams the notebook shut and hurries to her feet, turning around and clasping her hands behind her back. She keeps back a grimace as she moves so quickly. Her leg hasn’t quite been the same since the ogre fight. If she had to wager, she’d say it’s because she walked on it for about six hours before fixing it.

But that’s irrelevant.

Caleb stands in the doorway, a strange combination of worry and confusion on his face, like he’s torn between intervening and minding his own business. Nott isn’t with him, not that Jester can see.

“Oh, Caleb, hi, is there something you needed?”

“Is...everything okay?” he asks, taking a step to put him fully in the room.

“Yeah, it’s fine, I was just talking to the Traveler, Beau thinks it’s weird so I do it when she’s not here. I did some more drawings, do you want to see them?”

“Uh, sure, I guess, why not?”

Caleb takes a few steps closer and Jester meets him halfway. She hadn’t had the heart to draw what she normally does. Instead there are scenes from the day, a few sketches of Molly’s tattoos, and half finished faces from people passing by outside.

She points each one out, keeping the tremors out of her voice. She thinks she’s doing a good job, but Caleb is only staring right at her.

“You know, it’s rude to stare like that,” she says.

“Are you all right?” Caleb asks instead.

Jester opens her mouth to assure him, tell him she’s doing perfect because why wouldn’t she? But her lips tremble and she feels her eyes begin to tear up. She bites her lip, nearly drawing blood as she lets her notebook fall to the floor in favor of wringing her tail once more.

“I’m a good cleric, right?” she asks at last.

Caleb blinks once, twice, then grabs her by her arm and starts walking. She’s not resisting so he doesn’t have an issue, but she certainly wasn’t expecting this reaction.

They come to a stop outside Fjord and Molly’s room and Caleb throws the door open without knocking. Molly’s the only one inside, Fjord went out with Beau to do something or other.

“Fix this,” Caleb says, letting go of Jester’s arm to gesture at her instead.

Molly’s on the bed, sewing a tear in his coat and he looks at them, almost affronted before understanding dawns on him.

“Right then, what seems to be the problem?” He sets aside the coat and needle, turning to face Jester and Caleb, his attention wholly on the former.

“She’s crying, I don’t think I’m the best for comforting words,” Caleb says. He takes Jester’s arms again and pulls her toward the bed, making her sit down before moving to the doorway. He doesn’t leave, rather, he crouches down and stays like that a moment.

Jester drags her gaze to Molly, who’s waiting patiently for her to speak it seems.

“It’s not even that big of deal,” she says, making to get up. Before she can stand, however, Frumpkin leaps up into her lap. Caleb is standing, arms folded over his chest as he leans against the now closed door.

“Well, if it made you upset, I think it’s a pretty big deal. You don’t usually get bogged down, did something happen? Did Beau say something stupid?”

“What- No, Beau didn’t do anything.”

“Then?”

Jester keeps her mouth shut. If she knew Caleb was going to drag her to Molly for ‘Tealeaf Therapy’ she wouldn’t have said anything in the first place. They haven’t gotten rid of her yet, so she must be doing fine for now. It’s not worth bringing up anyway. If they know she’s having doubts, will that speed things up?

“She asked me if I thought she was a good cleric.”

“Well, we’re all alive, aren’t we? I should think that makes you a damn good cleric, especially given all the shit we get into.”

Frumpkin butts his head up under her chin and purrs.

“Thank you, Molly, but I’m still pretty shit at it,” Jester says. “Everybody else at least kinda knows what they’re doing, I don’t. I’ve never had to worry about anyone other than myself, and now I have to keep you guys alive. I’m _the_ cleric, that’s my job. What am I going to do if I can’t do that?”

“So Beau _did_ say something stupid,” Molly says with a small smile on his face.

“We’re all stumbling,” Caleb says, still leaning against the door. “I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, I would have died ten times over if you weren’t with me.”

Jester tries to protest but Molly speaks up.

“Did you think we’d leave you behind if you weren’t useful?”

She’s going to cry again, she knows she is. Molly needs to stop talking right now. She doesn’t want to cry in front of them. She hunches over a little, enough to hide her face in Frumpkin’s fur.

“Maybe. I’m not the only one who can heal.” Her words are shaky, she’s choking up a bit and she can’t stop herself. “Other people know magic, and they’re a lot better at it than I am.”

There’s a dip in the bed and she knows that Caleb has joined her and Molly. Frumpkin is still in her arms though, and it doesn’t seem like he has any intention of moving.

“Well,” Molly says, “let’s run down the list shall we? Yasha’s healing is minor, and she can’t do that all the time, so there’s that option gone. Fjord...doesn’t know any healing spells, from what we’ve discussed. I don’t think he even _can,_ to be honest. So, no. Caleb?”

“I can’t either, it’s not something I can do.”

Molly’s hand comes to rest on her head, between her horns, and he tussles her hair a little. His hand drops to the juncture of her neck and shoulder where he rubs circles into her skin.

“And even if there _was_ someone else,” he says, “we’re not going to leave you all on your lonesome. We like you for other things about you, not just because you can heal. That’s a nice bonus, sure, but there’s no doubt. I do wish you’d brought this up sooner though, it’s not good to keep bad things bottled up for so long.”

“I thought if I brought it up that…”

“We’d, what? Think it was stupid? Leave you immediately?”

“Yes.”

She doesn’t want to be alone again, she really doesn’t.

Frumpkin butts against her chin again, aggressively forcing her to look up.

“We’re not going to leave you, Jester,” Caleb says.

“You’re kinda the glue keeping this whole mess together. We all like you too much to get rid of you."

No she’s not. Is she? She’s never had friends before, she’s not sure how anyone of this is supposed to work. Exchange has always been the name of the game, it’s what she’s known since she was little. If she wants to get anywhere, she has to have something that other people want, that they need. So that’s what this turned into, healing for companionship.

If she can’t keep up her end of the deal, then they’re not obligated to keep up theirs. She knows she’s a lot sometimes. She knows that she’s loud, and she gets into trouble, and she misses things sometimes. But what she provides outweighs that. People can put up with annoying if they benefit from it.

And now she’s just supposed to _believe_ that these people actually like her? They haven’t even been together all that long.

Then again, they’ve had some fun. They haven’t tried to put her on any kind of lockdowns. They made a fuss about the pamphlets but nobody stopped her. Caleb didn’t have to buy her pastries nor did he have to get along with her after their fight, but he did. Beau lets her ramble about things she _knows_ other people find nonsensical. Nott has become her partner in crime. Yasha even let Jester hug her. Molly’s advice is weird, but in a good way, and it’s nice to be able to talk in Infernal again.

And Fjord...he's stuck by her the longest.

“Fjord and Beauregard should be back by now,” Caleb says, “and Nott’s downstairs.”

With that, Frumpkin leaps out of her lap and races to the door, only to find it closed. He looks to Caleb and meows, obviously annoyed.

Jester can’t help the small laugh that filters through the tears. Molly joins in full force as Caleb stumbles to his feet to open the door.

“Admittedly,” he says, “I didn’t think quite that far ahead.”

“Wait, why-”

“It’s Jester time, despite it being…”

“A quarter past midnight,” Caleb fills in.

“And besides, we can sit here and talk your ears off, but it’d do you good to hear it from everyone else as well. Apparently, I’m a liar and Caleb doesn’t tell the truth, so maybe there are people better suited.”

Molly takes his hand away from her neck and she sniffles.

“I don’t want them seeing me like this,” Jester whispers.

“Not a problem.”

Molly hands her a piece of cloth and she’s half way through drying her eyes when Nott bursts into the room, crossbow at the ready.

“What happened? Frumpkin came running. Is anyone hurt- Which one of you made Jester cry?”

“Nothing like that, Nott,” Caleb says, putting his hands up. Nott still has her crossbow ready to fire.

“Really, it’s fine Nott, they didn’t- they were trying to make me feel better.”

“Oh,well, okay then.” Nott stows her crossbow at her side than clambers up to sit in the spot Caleb was in. She takes Jester’s hand and squeezes. “What happened then? And why didn’t you come straight to me? I was just downstairs!”

“I didn’t plan on being upset tonight, Nott, it just happened.”

Nott nods for a few moments before patting Jester’s hand.

“I have just the thing.” She pulls her flask from where it’s affixed at her side and unscrews the top before handing it over. “I just refilled it.”

“Hey! Caleb! Call off your cat, he’s- All right, which one a’ you fucks made Jester cry?”

Beau looks more than a little irritated, and Fjord looks frazzled. Beau steps into the room first, much in the same fashion that Nott had.

“Beau, I don’t think that’s what-” Fjord puts his hand on her shoulder but she shakes it off.

“No, not cool. I know I’m an ass but at least I don’t-”

“It’s fine, Beau,” Jester cuts in, “really.”

Molly stands up and claps his hands.

“We’re going to talk about it, all of us, as a group. Get comfortable.”

“What’s this about?” Fjord asks. “Jester, you all right?”

Jester nods, finally accepting Nott’s flask and taking a sip. She’s not fond of alcohol, but she doesn’t want to refuse Nott.

With Molly’s seat now vacated, Beau takes it for herself. Caleb and Fjord sit at the foot of the bed and Molly leans against the wall. Frumpkin resettles himself in Jester’s lap, purring lightly.

She wants to cry all over again, but for a different reason this time. She just sniffles and pets Frumpkin with her free hand. Everyone is talking, not over each other, but talking all the same, and it’s a lot. But she listens as best she can.

And when she does start crying again, her friends are with her.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is happening but I managed to clean this up

“Jester, watch out!”

She hears Beau scream and her magic stutters at her fingers. The lollipop that was beginning to materialize in the air above the beast flickers out of existence. 

Shit.

“Beau! What wa-”

Something slams into her and she’s flying through the air as her chest begins to burn. Her body slams into the cave wall and she hits the ground hard on her feet. Her bad leg gives out and she falls, landing on her side and rolling onto her back. She can’t breathe right, what little air she manages to pull in nearly chokes her. It’s wet, something thick bubbling up her throat. She can feel something soaking her front, and shakily brings a hand up to feel around. 

Her fingers slip inside her chest and the shock is enough to block out the pain for a few seconds. 

A wave of  _ something _ hits her, flowing through her body from the tips of her horn to her tail and the world is dark. 

She hears someone yell and it sounds like her name.

Shit.

She manages to roll onto her side, and then pushes herself onto all fours from there.

“Okay, okay, okay, time to get up,” she mumbles to herself. She has to help the others, she’s still up, so she can still cast a spell, or provide some healing,  _ something _ . 

The only issue is that she can’t quite see anything, nor can she hear all that well. Everything sounds muffled and warbling, what she can hear over pounding heart anyway. Did something cast a spell on her? 

Because it sucks.

Maybe she should stay put, it would be safer.

Something explodes overhead and Jester curls into a ball, holding her hands at the back of her neck. 

For the time being, it might be best to try and calm down. Her heart is still pounding and there’s a weird burning in her chest.

Breathe in.

Her tail twitches as a wave of heat flies past her.

Breathe out.

The world around her goes quiet, almost deathly silent.

Breathe in.

Why is she curled up? It’s too tight to be comfortable.

Jester clambers up to her feet, squinting as light floods her eyes. She blinks to adjust and stretches her arms above her head. What to do? What to do?

Everything’s a little foggy but in a warm, pleasant sort of way. It feels like she could fall asleep at any moment, and she’d probably have a good dream too.

It takes her a moment to recognize the space around her, it’s been so long since she’s been here, no wonder.

It’s her old room. Delicate curtains, light and airy, blowing with a slight breeze in front of the open window. Her drawings, old ones from her childhood, are affixed to the wall, still as vibrant as when she first painted them. Her mural wall looks the same, though the edges seem a bit blurry. She takes a running start and jumps onto her bed, bouncing a little as a giggle rises from her throat. It’s just as she remembers it; soft, with too many pillows and too many covers. 

She twists her fingers into the main quilt, mindful of her claws. She doesn’t remember who made the quilt but she’s fairly sure it was her grandmother, not that her mother talked about her much. 

Speaking of…

Jester leaps from the bed and dashes for the door, stopping short and pressing her ear to the wood. She closes her eyes, slows her breathing, and listens.

There.

Faint, but there.

Her mother’s voice is just barely audible.

And she’s singing.

Jester tries to open the door but it holds fast. She tries again, pouring all of her strength into it. If she has to rip it from the wall then so be it. 

But it doesn’t budge.

“No,” she whispers, trying harder.

She won’t be shut in again, not when she’s seen the world around her. Not when she has…

Has what?

“It’s okay, there is no cause for worry, child.”

Jester whirls around and feels a wave of calm wash over her, almost immediately dispersing the panic.

The Traveler sits cross legged on her bed, his ever present cloak moving gently about him, hood obscuring his face.

Before she can say anything, the walls shake. She nearly falls but manages to stay standing. A few of her pictures flutter through the air, no longer affixed to the wall, dust falls unsettled from the rafters.

“What was that?” she asks, hurrying to sit beside the Traveler.

“Your friends are fighting a good fight,” he says.

Friends?

She squeezes her eyes shut and focuses, wracking her brain for nearly a whole minutes before it hits her.

“Fjord!” she shouts. “And Beau, and Nott, and Caleb, and Molly, and Yasha! Where are they? Why am I here?”

She’s not sure why she forgot, but it doesn’t make her feel good. Rather, there’s a tension growing in her stomach and she doesn’t like it at all. Her hands are shaking, her tail flicking back and forth so hard it sends faint twinges of pain up her spine. 

The Traveler reaches out a hand, drawing his knuckles down her cheek in a soothing gesture.

“It’s all right, dear one, they are all right, it’s you who’s in trouble I’m afraid.”

Jester snatches her tail from its agitated flicking and wrings it in her hands. Everything’s coming back to her now, and the more that does, the more nauseas she feels.

They took a job, just to make some extra money before moving on again. It wasn’t supposed to be difficult. They were underground, which, now that she thinks about it, is a place they almost always end up in. A tunnel collapsed, separating them. It was Jester, Yasha, and Caleb on one side, with Molly, Beau, Fjord, and Nott on the other. They couldn’t clear the collapse without risking the structural security of the rest of the tunnel. Luckily, they managed to meet up again in a central connecting cavern. By that point, the lot of them were pretty beat up, but not in any immediate danger. They moved on, pressing further in and down. Nott led the group, half drunk but with a much higher success rate than her previous attempts.

There were a few scuffles with cave animals but everything came to a head when they stumbled upon a horde of undead and a stitch monster. 

She remembers Nott getting a good first hit, then everything went to shit. Beau and Yasha faced off against the stitch monster, Molly guiding the charge against the undead. She remembers the monster slamming Beau across the cavern, and Yasha having to turn her attention to an undead. 

The stitch monster made a direct run for Jester.

She looks down, breathe catching in her throat as she sees her bloodied dress. She can’t feel the pain anymore, the wound is there but not bleeding, though the gouges and stains still remain in the body of her dress. Something like black spiderwebs spread out from the injury, pulsing slowly, just a little farther, every time Jester’s heart beats.

“I- I got- fuck! Am I dead?” She wrings her tail so hard that a gasp of pain beats past her lips. She drops her tail, noting the faint abrasion she left behind. There are tears welling up in her eyes, her lower lip trembling as her hands start to shake. Not willing to mess with with her tail, she raises one hand to her hair, tugging on it lightly.

“No, child, merely unconscious,” the Traveler says. He sighs and Jester feels a strong warmth spread through her chest. She hadn’t noticed until just then, but there was a distinct icy chill beginning to grow there.

“Unconscious,” she repeats. “Then I’ll be all right?”

The Traveler doesn’t say a thing for the longest while. It’s when Jester opens her mouth to ask again that he speaks.

“You need to focus,” he says, “focus on returning to your friends.”

That warmth once again fills her chest and she doesn’t know what the Traveler is talking about. Focus on returning? Is she supposed to imagine her friends? Tell herself all the facts she’s learned about them?

Beau talks in her sleep. Nott gives kinder advice when she’s sober, but the advice is more helpful when she’s drunk. Fjord isn’t nearly as put together as the others think. Molly is more affected by the world than he’d care to admit. Yasha and Caleb-

“Focus, my Jester.” the Traveler’s form begins to waver, the green glows bright before dulling considerably and it scares Jester more than anything. 

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” she cries.

The Traveler takes her hands.

“This place will try to keep you. It feels nicer here, safer, doesn’t it? And you’re welcome to stay, but there will be consequences. You may die, child, if you stay. Do you understand?”

“No, but-”

“I cannot stay here, but I will be waiting for you on whatever side you come out on.”

Before Jester can respond, the Traveler is gone and the icy cold is back in her chest.

And she’s alone again. 

Her tears haven’t stopped this whole time, but now they’re cooling as they fall down her cheeks, turning into diamonds of ice by the time they reach her jaw. There, they fall to the floor and shatter.

“Focus,” she says to herself, clenching her fists, gritting her teeth so hard that she feels one of her fangs chip. “Come on, you’re the cleric of the Might Nein, authorized heroes, come on.”

Focus on what though?

She tried focusing on her friends, and apparently that wasn’t what she was supposed to do. Is she simply supposed to  _ will _ herself to a state of stability? Is she to focus on what she remembers? Stay in the moment?

The scent of her mother’s perfume drifts into the room and the tension in her body immediately drains away.

The room gets colder.

Against her better judgement, Jester tries the door again. 

This time, it opens. 

And Jester freezes.

The Traveler said this place would try to keep her, and that she would die if she stayed. 

He also said he’d be waiting for her whether she lived or died. Is that so bad?

What is there in the world of the living? Leg pain, for one. Danger, blood, fear, grief, anger, complications, betrayal, loneliness, guilt.

Her friends.

She tries to shake the thoughts from her mind.

She’s their cleric, she can’t afford to die,  _ they _ can’t afford to let her die. She belongs with them, they said so, they’ve proven it to her, as she has to them. She’s earned her place, they’ve welcomed her with open arms and, in Molly’s case, forehead kisses and cart cuddles.

She can’t-

Her mother’s singing grows louder and Jester drops to her knees, hands over her ears. 

“Please, no, no, I have to-”

“Oh, my Jester, I thought I would never see you again.”

A pair of warm arms pull her in gently, a comforting pressure surrounding her as her mother’s perfume grows stronger. Her mother doesn’t have a lot of tattoos but she does have flowering vines swirling down her arms, kind of like Molly’s, and Jester can see some of the blossoms out of the corner of her eye.

“Mama?”

“I’m so proud of you, my Jester.”

Before Jester can return the hug, she’s floating in nothingness.

There’s not much to see at first, her vision seems to be coming into focus slower than it usually does. 

Beneath her is an ocean, black water with a faint green tinge, it’s bottomless and Jester can’t see her reflection in the surface. It stretches out as far as she can see, melding seamlessly with the sky above her which is nothing but glittering stars against a pitch back drop. There are no other celestial bodies, no moon, no sun, just an infinite amount of stars. There aren’t any constellations she recognizes. She doesn’t know how close she is to the ocean surface, or to the sky, ascertaining distance was never one of her strong suits, and the tricky depths of both only complicates her attempt. 

Is this the afterlife?

There is a warmth in her body, unlike the cold from before, or the general chill that she’s always had at her core. Though she’s unsure of her situation, though this place is unfamiliar, she feels  _ home _ . It feels nice here. There is no pain, no overwhelming need to prove herself, no sense of urgency. She doesn’t feel empty, not hungry or thirsty, but pleasantly full. There is no fatigue in her bones, just a fuzzy tinge of lethargy to everything. 

Something rumbles beneath the waves, causing ripples for a few seconds before the water goes still once more. 

She can’t smell anything so she’s not sure if it’s fresh or saltwater.

“I had a feeling it would be this side.”

Jester looks ahead to see the Traveler sitting in front of her, legs crossed, cloak fluttering gently around him. He appears serene, though she can’t see his face. She tries to move closer but finds that even though her body is  moving, the distance between them remains the same.

“What is this?”

“This place is where the grace period happens.”

“Grace period?”

“Where souls remain until a ritual is performed, or their time runs out and they move on to wherever they’re fated to go.”

It occurs to Jester then that  _ she’s _ the cleric,  _ she’s _ the one with resurrection capabilities.

The others don’t have that. If she’s dead…

“They’re discussing,” the Traveler says. “I should hear their prayers any moment now.”

“They’re praying to you?”

She sees a grin spread from beneath the hood and the Traveler glows just a touch brighter.

“I may not be a true god, my child, but I am an entity with power and you are  _ my _ cleric. I can’t just send you back because I want to, or because you want to, your friends have to perform the ritual. These sorts of things must be played by the rules.”

“What happens if the ritual doesn’t work?”

The Traveler’s head tilts to the side and there is an uncomfortable silence that stretches a little too long.

“Do you...not wish to go back?”

No.

Yes.

She hasn’t felt this okay in a long while, and she misses her friends already, but…

“Listen to them,” the Traveler says, and suddenly, he’s sitting beside her. “Hear what they have to say first, before you decide, dear one. I will gladly take you with me if that is what you wish, but listen to them.”

Jester throws her arms around him, hugging him tight and taking a deep breath.

“Will you stay with me?”

“I’m afraid I can’t influence your decision more than I have, and I have to go to their side to see how the ritual goes. But I will return when they are done, and you can tell me your choice.”

As pleasant as this place is, Jester doesn’t want to be alone again.

“Okay,” she says.

“Think carefully,” the Traveler says before he vanishes. 

A weight falls over Jester’s shoulders and she looks to find the Traveler’s cloak.

She dries her eyes and takes her tail in hand, forcing herself to wait.

The sky fills with clouds, dark grey rolling in and covering the stars. Lightning crackles, smashing into the water below but missing Jester. Thunder booms and echoes around, almost deafening as rain begins to fall. Though the water wasn’t reflective before, it now perfectly mirrors the storm that has suddenly swept in. 

It’s Yasha’s voice that reaches Jester’s ears, soft and tired and Jester has to wonder if she’s injured.

“Uh, Mr. The Traveler? This is Yasha, I don’t worship you, you know that though, I’m a follower of the Stormlord, but I- he can’t give Jester back, you can. Jester is- was- is- she’s one of the few people I call a friend. I should have protected her better, and I swear it, I swear on my life, if you give me a second chance, this won’t happen again. I- I’ll keep her safe. I’ll protect her better than a friend, as my family. Just, please, let her come back.”

A single flower floats down through the storm, landing in Jester’s lap. It’s pressed, undeniable from Yasha’s book, but Jester’s never seen anything like it before.

The tears falling frozen from Jester’s eyes fall into the water, and she holds out one of her hands. The smallest sliver breaks from a bolt of lightning, glowing white hot, connects with one of her claws. It doesn’t burn as it winds down her finger and toward her wrist, resting there after squeezing tightly a moment. 

The storm rages on for a few more minutes before the clouds start to part.

Where there wasn’t before, a moon shines down around her, a beam of soft light falls right onto her head. She feels something tighten to her horns and she brings her hands up to touch, freezing when she feels Molly’s bands now affixed there. After a moment, his voice echoes through the emptiness, the Infernal sounding less harsh than it usually does.

“This is a selfish request. Jester Lavore is the only one of us who’s good, if  _ anyone _ deserves a long and happy life, it’s this one. You can’t just take her away. Jester, I hope you can hear me,  you’d better come back, this band of misfits  _ needs _ you more than words can say. You’re the glue holding everyone together, please. We- I need you to come back, and I need you to be you when you do. Can you do that for me? I’ve seen unconscious people, Jester, I haven’t seen dead people. But this body has been dead before, and I have to choose every moment of every day to be  _ me. _ Don’t let this change you, please Jester.”

She can feel the tethers separate from the moonbeam and tie themselves around her horns as more tears fall.

Then it’s dead silent for a long while. She begins to wonder if this is it, if the ritual failed somehow, before the water starts to thrash around. The oceans becomes angry, waves growing and crashing below her, catching the skirt of her dress with the spray. 

She tips forward, sights fixed below the water as a massive yellow eye opens at the bottom. She can’t look away, but the tethers of white light tighten their grip on her. 

It’s Fjord’s voice that she hears next.

And he sounds angry.

“You give her back, you give her back right now. If her eyes don’t open again, I will spend every waking moment erasing any mention of you from this world, I swear to gods. She doesn’t deserve to die, and you can’t let her. You can’t afford to let one of your worshippers die, and if you can then you better pick someone else. Anyone else, not  _ her _ . Do you understand me? You give her back to us, she belongs with  _ us,  _ not in some gloomy afterlife where her joy is gonna’ be wasted.”

Like the other times,there is a tendril of light, this one yellow, and rising from the waves. But it doesn’t reach her.

The lightning and thunder are still in the sky, the moon is still shining, the waves still thrashing, but the light stops just short of breaking the water’s surface. She can’t reach for it, can’t touch it, though she tries. 

The cloak around her shoulders is gone, and the Traveler floats before her once more. 

“Well,” he says with a quiet laugh, “what is your decision, dear one?”

“I-”

The thunder booms louder than Jester’s ever heard, the lightning illuminates the depths of the water and Jester recoils for a split second. As something monstrous becomes visible. Whatever it is, the glowing eye is part of it.

“Jester?”

“I- How are they?” 

“I’m not certain that I can-”

“Please?”

Something like a sigh falls from the Traveler’s unseen lips, and he floats closer to Jester, taking her face in his hands.

“They’re a mess, child, the lot of them. Here, listen.”

The sounds around her fade out as the warmth in her chest is replaced by cold.

“Did it work?” Nott asks.

“I should have tried,” Beau says. “Maybe I could have-”

“It will work, it has to.” Caleb’s voice is soft.

There is no sound from Yasha, Molly, or Fjord, but every tear hitting the stone floor echoes twenty times over. 

The Traveler looks at her and the storm and waves return full force.

“What do you choose?”

“I want to go back.”

“An excellent choice, dear one.”

She feels lips against her forehead, then everything is gone.

The first thing she feels is, strangely enough, her leg. The ache that had been missing previously while she was with the Traveler in the other place has returned full force and then some, and she groans.

A chorus of voices come next, all her name in varying degrees of worry and relief.

She’s jostled suddenly, yanked upright with several different pairs of arms holding her in tight hugs. Her brain won’t count, but she’s pretty sure the small ones are Nott’s, and the regular sized but muscled are Beau’s.

Jester cracks her eyes open and the hugs tighten further. The pain in her chest jumps to hell fire and she whimpers.

“Put her down! She’s still injured.”

It sounds like Molly, and her suspicion is confirmed when his head comes into view and one of his hands cups the back of her head.

“There we are, open up.”

Her mouth drops open and Molly tips something in. She figures it’s a healing potion when the pain starts to subside.

“You okay there, Jester?” Molly asks. There’s another layer to the question, she remembers what he said in the ritual. 

“I fucking  _ died _ , Molly, what do you think?”

He starts laughing, and Jester will just have to keep it a secret as his eyes go glassy. 

“Here, sit up.”

Caleb’s voice is a little startling, but he helps her up, supporting most of her weight. She can feel his hand shaking at her back and grins. She keeps Yasha’s flower in hand, and once she’s sitting up, she spares her free hand to touch Molly’s gifted jewelry.

Fjord is standing a ways off, not facing her, his body filled with tension.

“You guys took care of the monsters?” Jester asks.

“We did,” Nott says. “Caleb and Fjord killed the thing that got you.”

“Thank you, guys, really.” Jester says.

“We should get out of here,” Beau says. “Jester you need to rest. Yasha, can you-”

“I’ll do it.”

“No offense, Fjord, but you’re pretty fuckin weak.”

“I’m also the least injured out of all of us.”

He’s not wrong, everyone looks pretty banged up, definitely bloodied.

“Fjord, are you certain? I can carry her,” Yasha says.

“It’s fine, save your strength.”

With Molly’s potion, her chest doesn’t hurt as much, but she grits her teeth as Fjord helps her onto his back. They head out in relative silence, making it halfway before Nott starts telling Jester everything she missed. Beau jumps in, and even Caleb makes an effort. 

By the time they make it above ground, the mood has lifted considerably.

Jester and Fjord end up in the car, everyone else mounting a horse.

“Is everything okay Fjord?” she asks once they start moving. 

She heard him during the ritual, but he hadn’t spoken to her directly then or when she had woken up.

She can see his jaw twitch and she winces when she realizes that he’s grinding his teeth.

“Don’t do that again,” he says at last. “You scared us all halfway to- well, to death, Jester. And my first instinct was to threaten the god you worship, so you could say I’m a little rattled.”

“I heard you,” she says, tail flicking lazily behind her as she shifts to look at Fjord properly. “I don’t the Traveler was offended.”

“Come again?”

“I don’t think the Traveler-”

“No, the first part.”

“Oh, I heard you.”

“Did you hear the others too?”

“Moly and Yasha? Yes.”

Fjord is quiet for a long time and Jester wonders if she should have maybe kept this part a secret.

“Well, maybe now that you know for certain how much we like you, the worst you’ll ever be is unconscious.”

They won’t make it back to town before nightfall, so they make camp. Yasha carries her from the cart to the soft grass, Beau and Nott help her bandage up her chest. She’s ready to sleep and Molly lets her use his coat as a pillow. Her eyes close as Frumpkin settles beside her and she hears Fjord start to pray to the Traveler.

It’s not so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked it, let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked this, I've had the concept for a while now but I never got around to writing it. Let me know what you think!


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